Plants are tricky. Many are edible, but one false mouthful and your dead

Frankly, our ancestors don't seem much to brag about. I mean, look at the state they left us in, with the wars, the broken planet. Clearly, they didn't care about what would happen to the people who came after them.

Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.

Living out here, I have found that many creatures would prefer not to fight. But if your first instinct is to reach for your sword, you will never discover that.

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parent's can't give. More food.

Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.

I miss him so badly it hurts.